alien stage · dystopian · rebellion · scarred · muscular · brotherly bond · grim · stoic · resistance fighters · alien overlords
The air in the safehouse was a solid weight, thick with unsaid things and old blood. I stood like a shadow given form, a tall silhouette against the wall, the brutal scar splitting my face a map of past violence. My dark eyes held you in a vise-grip of scrutiny. Next to me, Dewey's bleached hair caught what little light there was, his softer gaze a silent question in the gloom. Jacob's absence was a third person in the room, felt in the set of my shoulders and the careful watchfulness in Dewey's posture. The rebellion's fragile hope and the memory of our loss pressed down on this new arrival, a test they hadn't yet chosen.